


Blooming

by boomsherlocka



Series: Spring It Shall Flower [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: AU, Delivery Person Sidney Crosby, Gen, Geno Still Plays Hockey, M/M, fLOWERS FLOWERS EVERYWHERE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomsherlocka/pseuds/boomsherlocka
Summary: Every day Sid woke up convinced that it was the day that he would be broken up with by Evgeni Malkin.





	Blooming

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Nicole and Stephanie for the enabling. This one is for you!

Every day Sid woke up convinced that it was the day that he would be broken up with by Evgeni Malkin. It was an irrational fear, he was fully aware of that fact, but he would still succumb to the occasional flair of terror that would have him convinced that something mindless that he had done would finally be the straw that would break the camel's back. 

When Sid had broken down and admitted to Geno that he didn't know the first thing about flowers, Geno took the admission in stride. In actuality, Geno's eyes had doubled in size as he gingerly put his fork down beside his plate. Sid flushed and sank a bit farther down in his chair, wincing and preparing for whatever Geno felt like hurling his way. "So what, you just see flowers first time, were curious?" 

Sid nodded, twisting the napkin in his lap. "They... they smelled really good. Then the next time I was there, so were different flowers. I thought you were really bad at keeping plants alive, but... I don't know. Delivering packages can be really monotonous. Those flowers made my day a little more interesting, even if I didn't know what any of them were." 

Silence fell, and Sid risked looking at Geno again. There was a giant smile on his face and his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter that soon escalated to an uncharacteristically high-pitched giggle. 

That giggle shocked a burst of laughter from Sid, and they lost a handful of minutes to uncontrollable peals of laughter. "I spend too much time trying impress you! Look for flowers that are pretty, smell good! Think this guy knows his stuff, flower expert. Have to try hard to impress! Even tell me, water flowers!" 

"Even I could tell that they were dying," Sid muttered with a shrug. 

Geno sat up a bit straighter. "Dying because I order, wait for you to come, tell you I'm want... want date, and you not there! Some kid, throw around package, don't care at all." 

Sid wrinkled his brow, trying his best to remember when he had missed a day of work. The only one that came to memory was when he'd gone to watch his sister tend goal at one of her college games. "I took a vacation, it was a family thing," Sid said with a little laugh. "What did you think, that I'd quit?" 

Geno flushed and shrugged. "Well, think... request new route. Die in terrible accident. Sick, turns out allergic to flowers. Lots of things I think. But then you come back, tell me water flowers." 

Sid nodded, bumping his knee against Geno's under the table. "Little did you know how bossy I was, eh?" 

"Or how weird," Geno added with a sage nod of mock sincerity. "Think you so smooth, best pickup, little wink. But no. Big dork." 

Sid stepped on Geno's toes as he narrowed his eyes. "You're the big fancy hockey player here, 71. If anything I was impressed with you and you turned out to be the big goofy puppy. I had no warning." 

Geno looked smug as he bumped his knee against Sid's under the table. "Too late now," he said in a little sing-song, flicking a carrot in Sid's direction. 

Sid picked up the carrot and took an exaggerated bite. "Yeah," he said, mid-chew. "Too late." 

_/\\_

Six months in, and some how, miraculously, they were still together. Geno was in Arizona, grousing about the heat and sending scraggly pots of Mexican heather and flowering cacti. After much conversation and reassurance from Sid that it was okay to send him potted plants and that it wasn't rude or presumptuous, they were coming to Sid's apartment and not Geno's house. Soon enough he had run out of sunny spots on his meager balcony and was quickly running out of windowsill space for the smaller plants. 

Geno had asked him to be at his place when he arrived home, even though it would be late. He had pressed a single key on a Penguins key chain into his hand, color high on his cheeks. "Be very tired, but be nice to see you," Geno said softly before chewing on his bottom lip, like there was any doubt how Sid would respond to the request. 

Sid was at Geno's house when he came home, eyelids droopy but smile bright. His bag was dropped in the entryway, forgotten, as he crowded Sid up the stairs to the bedroom and into bed, clinging to Sid with more hands than seemed biologically possible. 

Sid brushed a kiss to his forehead and Geno made a rumbling sound of contentment, already asleep. 

Sid followed soon after.

_/\\_

A year into their relationship Sidney broke down and told Geno he didn't have any more room in his tiny apartment for plants. He hardly had any floor space that wasn't taken up by beautiful and fragrant plants that, despite his constant rotation in an attempt to make sure they all got the appropriate amount of sun, were beginning to look droopy and sad. 

He expected Geno to look disappointed but agree to halt sending flowers. That seemed the logical course of action. Instead Geno shrugged, motioning to his expanse of a backyard. "Okay, so I build greenhouse for what not fit inside. I have whole empty room, can build display, hang some pots from ceiling. Turn house into jungle." 

"Do you really want to saddle your housekeeper with taking care of all those plants when you're away?" Sid asked as he pulled away from Geno's side a bit to look up into his face. "I think you might be underestimating the volume of plants we're talking about here. It's practically a full-time job." 

Geno shrugged, twisting his fingers in the hem of Sid's t-shirt. "So quit job, move in here. Take care of me, plants. Maybe we get dog, have family." 

Sid scoffed, shifting so that he was sitting on his knees and shoving Geno's shoulder. "So you ask if the plants can move in before you ask me to? Are you serious? You make me want to strangle you sometimes, I swear." 

Geno tried his best to slap away Sid's hands, his cheeks flaming pink as he smiled sheepishly. "Come on, I'm think is romantic! You like!" 

"I like you," Sid grumbled, pushing Geno back against the arm of the sofa, the home improvement show they were watching completely forgotten. "But your definition of romantic is... a lot." 

Geno laughed, pressing a kiss to the inside part of Sid's left upper arm that was left stark white because it was the only part of said arm free of tattoos. "Think you don't just like this," Geno said, leaning forward to nip at Sid's neck. "Think you love." 

Sid huffed out a giggle, his eyes drifting closed at the gentle kisses. "Yeah," he agreed as Geno took two large handfuls of Sid's ass. "I love. And I'll move in." 

The next day Geno was hiring a contractor to build a state of the art greenhouse, self-watering and temperature controlled. Sid did research to determine which plants were best suited to that climate, and plotted the placement meticulously. It took the movers two trips to bring everything over, and the rest of the day to get the greenhouse arranged to his liking. The sprinkler system was on so he got a little damp and a little dirty. He made note of the plants that he'd soon need to repot, along with the ones that he'd have to keep an eye on to make sure they were getting enough shade. 

He couldn't help his pleased smile when he stepped back to snap a picture to send to Geno, who was a few hours into a flight to Los Angeles and probably asleep. 

The house was marginally easier to arrange. Geno had an elaborate shelving system installed in the smaller of his guest bedrooms, along with some hanging baskets for the smaller planters. The larger pots were interspersed throughout the house, depending on how much sun they needed and how many windows there were. 

The rose bush he saved for their bedroom--- t_heir_ bedroom, and he had ordered a rather dramatic white pillar planter for it that seemed too gaudy for Sid's tastes but fit right in with Geno's eclectic decor. 

When he was finished arranging the plants he called it a day, ordering in a pizza and taking a quick shower before it arrived. Unpacking the meager few boxes of his clothes and belongings could wait until the next day.

He settled down in the living room, even if he was still hesitant to eat on Geno's sofa despite seeing the other man do the same countless times.

He put his phone next to the pizza box on the coffee table. He turned on the television, the volume low as the Property Brothers went on about granite countertops.

He wasn't really listening, he was listening for his phone to ring, a chirpy song by Lady Gaga that Geno insisted be his ringtone.

When he had finished his second slice of pizza the screen of his phone flashed to life, a picture of Geno sticking his tongue out filling the screen. Lady Gaga hadn't even gotten the chance to tell everyone it was going to be okay, but Sid answered the phone. Soon enough the pizza and Property Brothers were abandoned.

_/\\_

Tragedy struck one year and four months into their relationship, and it seemingly happened overnight. It was a Wednesday and Sid was making his usual rounds, rotating plants and making sure they had enough water. He had set the cactus in the kitchen window where it would get the most sun. He hadn't been too concerned when the flowers withered and died, but this morning he was concerned. 

The cactus looked... deflated. Its once vibrant green had turned a mottled brown and a quick poke with a pencil found it soft. 

Sid Googled furiously, angrily exiting out of a website when it told him exactly what he didn't want to hear. 

The cactus was dead. 

Even still, he took it to the greenhouse, carefully removing it from the pot to examine the roots, which were clearly rotted. He'd made a rookie mistake-- he overwatered the plant that most assuredly did not need to be overwatered. He'd killed it, plain and simple. 

Sid felt silly as he dug a hole in the backyard, laying the cactus inside it before covering it over. He ignored the furious pounding of his heart, he ignored the gnawing guilt in his gut. 

Geno wouldn't be home for another two days, and it seemed like the most ridiculous sort of thing to do, call him up to deliver the news that one of their menagerie hadn't made it. When Geno called that night, however, it was the first thing out of Sid's mouth. 

"I killed the cactus. I thought I was being careful and not giving it too much water, but I was. I don't know how, I checked the soil all the time, I was meticulous about it, but the roots... they were sitting in water and they just rotted. I'm sorry, I couldn't save it. I know it was important to you and I couldn't keep it alive." 

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long time before Geno said, "Switch to Facetime." 

Sid wanted to argue but he didn't, he just pulled his phone away from his face and pressed the little button that started up the video. Geno's face blinked into focus and his brow was furrowed. It was dark in his hotel room, and his face was only illuminated by the light of his phone screen and the distant television. "I'm sorry Geno, there wasn't anything I could do," Sid added in a rush, keeping his eyes downcast as he spoke. "You... you got that for me and I couldn't take care of it. Maybe you shouldn't get me any more plants." 

Geno made a soft, pitying sound and Sid winced, unable to look up, to see the disappointment in his face. "Sid, if you're not wanting any more plants, if is too much, okay. I stop. But... I'm get as gift for you, not for something to stress over. Is okay, plants die. You happy? That important to me, not dumb plant. See you smile is important. Like that there are reminders everywhere that I leave for you, but if make you sad, make you worry like this, is not worth it, okay? I do more research, find things better for where we live, maybe. Or nothing. In Russia..." Geno fell silent for a moment and Sid risked a glance up. He seemed to be struggling to put what he wanted to say into words. "In Russia, is rude to give someone a plant. Is like... give someone an animal for present. You give them something they have to take care of forever. Is a lot. But... I'm like that idea. Give you something that means forever. But I guess... I give you so much that means forever. Too much." 

Sid shook his head. "It's not too much," he said quickly, then winced. "Well, it's a lot. And I'm not complaining, that isn't what this is, but... you don't have to keep giving me stuff. Believe me, I'm... I'm in this for the long haul. For as long as we both want forever." Sid's heart thudded uncomfortably against his rib cage and Geno seemed similarly affected-- his hand came to rest over his heart, his fingers curling in a bit against his skin. 

"Definitely want," he finally said with a little smile, his voice a pleased rumble. 

Sid nodded, his entire body tingling. "Okay, good," he said with a relieved gust of air. "I... ah. I might have had a funeral. In the back yard. Maybe I should have waited on you." 

Geno laughed as he switched off the television, his face growing even darker on screen. "Maybe I send something, pay respect for lost loved one." 

"Oh my god you can't chirp me about this, I was having a crisis," Sid sighed, put upon. He wasn't really put upon at all. "And you need to go to bed." 

Geno was still laughing as he sputtered out "я так тебя люблю," something that Sid had heard him say a thousand times but never asked him to translate. He was fairly certain he knew what it meant.

The next morning he awoke to an overnight delivery of a sympathy card and a fake potted cactus in full bloom.

Sid rolled his eyes and put it in the kitchen window, a smile on his face.

_/\\_

For Sid's birthday, Geno secured him an appointment with one of the most sought-after tattoo artists in Pittsburgh. he had a bit of warning concerning this particular gift, and had been in communication with the artist as they designed something that would fit perfectly in the empty space on the inside of his bicep.

Over the years Sid had carved things into his skin that meant something to him, remembrances of the people and places that shaped who he was. The frozen winter landscape of Nova Scotia, all blues and greys and blacks outlines against his shoulder. In contrast, the sparkling summers of his family home in Cole Harbour- a boat sitting on a dock at sunset, the silhouette of a boy and a dog on the dock fishing, framed in the shape of a maple leaf. A goalie mask on his forearm, along with the coordinates of the hospital where Taylor was born. His own lucky number, along with his father's sweater number. The message his mother had written on his birthday cards ever since he could read- "Be the best at whatever you choose. Love you always, Mom". His dad has always signed the same card as "Troy", at which his mother always rolled her eyes. On the inside of his wrist, the number "143", gotten the first time Taylor had come to visit him in Pittsburgh after she was old enough to get a matching tattoo in the same place. At the same time he'd gotten the Pittsburgh skyline along the outside of his forearm, cementing it as a place he considered home, and would always consider home.

The only part left blank-- intentional or not, Sid was never sure-- was the stretch of his bicep that pressed against his ribcage, the part that rattled with every beat of his heart. He'd saved that part and although he knew it probably was not the best idea, he was ready to fill it.

As per usual, he did a lot of research. He had settled on flowers, but wanted to make sure he picked the perfect ones. He wanted a bouquet, something that represented Geno and everything the other man meant to him.

The first one was easy: roses. At first he tried to find images of the same kind of roses that Geno had presented him with when he finally got the courage to speak to Sid, but didn't find anything that impressed him. He then Googled "Russian roses", and discovered the term Russian-cut, which meant that the roses were cut at the peak of bloom, when the blossoms were the largest and most impressive. Other websites about the Russian language of flowers said that the deeper the color of the flower, the deeper the love between two people was. One flower done.

The next flower that came to mind was a peony. He'd looked up "big pink flower lots of petals" as soon as he'd gotten back in his delivery truck that first time at Geno's and quickly discovered that those were the flowers on the other man's porch, and they were probably the prettiest flowers he had ever seen. He wasn't the biggest fan of getting a big pink flower tattooed on him, but soon enough found a variety of peony- the fern leaf peony- that was native to parts of Russia. With the addition of chamomile, the national flower of Russia, he was satisfied with his choices.

He sent everything over to the artist and received a mock up of the design a few days later with a promise that once everything was colored in it would look perfect.

He had no doubt it would be.

Geno came with him to the appointment, his smile growing wide when they laid the stencil down. Sid couldn't quite meet his eyes as he checked the placement out in the mirror, and he nodded silently before climbing back into the chair, laying back and holding out his right hand for Geno to take.

Hours later they walked away with a new tattoo of deep purple roses, yellow and white chamomile, and cheery peonies, along with another appointment for Geno a week later for his birthday. It was a gift from Sid that he didn't feel bad for name-dropping to get.

Geno's little bouquet was of Labrador tea, lilac and Canadian Shield rose. He'd done his own research, waffling back and forth about some choices before finally settling on those three. He had them tattooed in a hyper-realistic style over his heart while Sid held his hand.

A few weeks later when the tattoos had both healed, Geno insisted on taking a picture of both of them, Geno standing behind him without a shirt while sit reached up to grab onto his bicep, showing off his own. He felt silly doing the pose, but when Geno showed him the edited picture, high contrast and cropped to carefully obscure Sid's face and only showing the curl of Geno's smile, he felt beautiful. Powerful, there together.

He hadn't known that Geno was going to put it on Instagram with simply the caption of an emoji heart.

He didn't know that he'd instantly be invited to literally every Penguins event, or that there would definitely be a betting pool trying to guess how much longer it would be before Geno popped the question.

Most of all, he didn't know how at ease Geno would be with everything, how unabashedly happy he would be, how eager he was to show Sid off and tell their story. They did an entire Pens TV documentary about their courtship, and for some reason Matt Murray couldn't manage a complete sentence in his presence without turning bright red and excusing himself, much to the amusement of the rest of the team.

He hadn't known that, just like everything else with Geno, coming out would be so simple.

But it was.

_/\\_

Sully won the betting pool with the wildcard bet that Sid would propose on New Year's Day, during the first period of the Winter Classic watch party at his and Geno's house.

He was entirely too smug about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Will there be more of this??? 
> 
> Probably, because as soon at CERTAIN PEOPLE read it they'll bombard me with more plot bunnies! This is a good problem to have. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think!


End file.
